Give them Hell
by Dovahkiir2015
Summary: Hellen is still trying to get her life back together after becoming Hell Fire, and as you can imagine, it's not an easy task, made harder when those that are helping her are approached by a stranger and go off doing who knows what, and she gets approached by someone who has been terrorizing Central City.


Things have been different since the Particle Accelerator exploded. Meta humans have been appearing all over the city and, as many people do when they discover they have abilities, been wreaking havoc. Sure, not all people are doing this, but it was no surprise that metas were getting a bad reputation.  
Hellen Finch was no different. Sure, she was a meta through different means, but she was a meta nonetheless. And she'd started getting a bit of a reputation. Or her alias was. Hell Fire. A dragonesque being that seemed to enjoy creating chaos. Her debut had ended rather spectacularly, to say the least, with her murdering someone, and her best friend almost dying. And yet, somehow, she still believed things had ended up for the best. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that she'd gotten to talk to her future self, though she did wonder how that worked and if she'd somehow broken some kind of law of time or something. As it was, things were a lot different to how they used to be for her.

Sure, her father was still a drunk, her mother and brother were still dead, and she was still a little socially awkward, but she had improved. It would seem that her personalities were at war, but Hell Fire was winning half the time. It was surprising how often Hellen got the urge to kill someone, surprising how often she had to fight it back. She managed it, though. Her body count was still only at one. Thankfully. Although she didn't feel guilty for killing the man who had killed her mother and brother, she didn't want to kill anyone else. Hellen still had morals, even if Hell Fire didn't. Hell Fire only cared for one thing. Herself. It led to a few problems, things that Hellen was still having to deal with. Especially since she didn't yet have full control over her abilities. She was improving, but half the time Hell Fire had more control than Hellen did.

* * *

Another jet of ice shot towards her, forcing her to tuck her wings in and fall slightly. She extended them again just before she hit the cold, concrete floor of the warehouse they were in, beating them a couple of times to regain lift, turning to glare down at Snart.

"That was a bit too close!" She snapped.

"Then you should learn to dodge faster." Came the snide reply, just as he pulled the trigger on his cold gun again. This time Hellen didn't move fast enough, only just managing to put her hands up and summon enough flame to lessen the blow, the ice striking her left shoulder and part of her wing, forcing her to land. Or more accurately, fall. She rolled to lessen the impact, scowling in pain before transforming back into a human, her flame-like hair returning to its charred-wood colour, her eyes turning from gold to a pale yellow-green. She glared at Snart.

"Can we _please_ have mats put down next time? Just in case I crash land again?" She asked, forcing herself to her feet, cradling her shoulder and cringing slightly, "I think my dad is starting to get suspicious of how many bruises I'm getting."

"Stop getting bruises and he'll stop getting suspicious."

"That's great advice. I wonder why I never thought of that. Oh, wait." Hellen rolled her eyes, plonking herself down in a nearby chair, Snart setting aside the cold gun and letting his goggles fall around his neck before he turned to face her, taking a seat on the edge of a nearby table.

"You're improving," He said eventually, "But your reactions are still slow."

"Tell her that, not me."

"You're the same person."

"Not quite. She's more of a bitch," Hellen shot him an exceedingly false smile, then went back to trying to prevent her shoulder from getting too stiff, "Could you pass me my jacket? It's freaking cold." Snart quietly got up and grabbed Hellen's jacket, throwing it at her rather unceremoniously, getting a muttered thanks in reply. She brushed off the ice that was still sitting on her shoulder before slipping into her jacket, pulling it tight around her. Ever since becoming Hell Fire, the cold had started affecting her more. Used to be she didn't mind the cold. Now she hated it.

"Once you've recovered we'll go again." Snart told her, starting to check over the cold gun to make sure it was good to go. Hellen sighed, shaking her head.

"No can do, sorry. Dad's hosting this work… dinner… thing… And I'm expected to attend. Speaking of… I should probably be going to get ready for it." She pushed herself up and out of the chair, not looking too happy about the idea. Her personality might be changing, but she still hated being in big groups of people, sitting around eating, being forced to make polite conversation with people she barely knew. It was something that she'd never get used to. Snart shrugged, not able to care less.  
"Expect twice the work tomorrow."

"Yup." They didn't say anything else. They usually only talked about training, not much else. Hellen knew that he and Mick talked about her when she wasn't around, probably about when she'd be ready for helping them rob banks. Hellen wasn't sure if she wanted to get into that stuff, but it was the main reason that they kept her around. Other than the part where her future self had pretty much ordered Snart to keep an eye on her, to look after her. Sometimes she wished that future Hellen had kept her nose out of things. It felt like things would have been a lot easier if she had. Then again, things could be a lot more complicated. For one, Hellen would be dealing with Hell Fire on her own. Which didn't sound overly appealing. Or she'd be working with the Flash. Another thing that didn't sound overly appealing. Being a criminal was more appealing to Hellen than being some big-shot hero.

At least as a criminal people weren't necessarily going to talk about you in every second sentence, not going to name a drink after you.  
Hellen still preferred the idea of being forgotten than being famous. It was hard enough being the daughter of a rather successful scientist, even if Finch Labs had been blown up. The repairs had gone reasonably smoothly, and people were straight back to work. Things were back to normal. Hellen's dad was back to drinking in excess, or when he wasn't doing that he was lost in his work. She vaguely wondered if he was back to researching the crystals that had given Hellen her abilities in the first place. She was too afraid to ask.

She left the warehouse, walking a few blocks to where her car was parked, pulling her keys from her pocket, unlocking the car and getting into it. It was a nice car. New. Fancy. She didn't necessarily like it, but she didn't dislike it. It did the job. Her dad had gotten it for her a couple of weeks back without first consulting her on what she wanted. It was a nice thought, and it was definitely easier to get to the warehouse unnoticed, even if she did have to walk a decent distance. She didn't want to attract too much attention. She wasn't positive, but she was fairly certain that the Flash and co. would be keeping half an eye on her, possibly believing her to be a bit unstable. They wouldn't be wrong.

Hellen just sat in the driver's seat for a moment before fastening her seatbelt and backing out of the park, pulling out into traffic and headed back to where she and her dad lived. She didn't want to think about what state that James Finch, her dad, would be in when she got home. It was getting closer to that time of year again. He was starting to drink more frequently, and for longer. It wasn't easy for her. And he didn't seem to realise it. Not that she could talk to him about it. He'd just drink more and forget. Those were the joys of having a family as broken as hers was. She pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind, instead thinking about who might be at the dinner. Another subject that she wasn't too keen on, but better than thinking about her drunkard father at that moment. There was nothing she would rather be doing at that moment that being shot at with the cold gun, which really said something about how little she wanted to be doing this.  
The things you do for family.

* * *

 **So, I did have a start, but apparently I lost it... and forgot about it for ages. But I recently got reminded about this, so here's a first chapter. Not promising updates regularly or often, but we'll see how things go.**


End file.
